Starcrossed (47 page)

“Lady Phandre?” Lady Lyll’s voice was hard and cool.

Phandre dragged herself to her feet. “I just did what everyone else was too afraid to do. She was a risk, to all of us.”

“What did they promise you?” That was me.

She tilted her chin up. “They didn’t have to promise me anything. Anyone can see where the real power is.”

Slowly, Antoch turned his back on her. “You saw my daughter?” he said softly to me.

“She isn’t hurt. Please, your lordships — I have information, but I can’t report it here.” I glanced toward Phandre.

Swiftly, Lady Lyll pulled herself upright and issued a series of crisp, quick orders. Cwalo and Lord Sposa dragged Phandre off to her room, with orders to post a guard on her door, and Lord Wellyth was dispatched with Lord Antoch to verify my report.

“I think I may have made every thing worse,” I added, before they left. Everyone looked at me expectantly. “I may have — said something to the Inquisitor about being his sister.”

I winced, but was met with absolute empty silence. It really didn’t get easier to say. I pushed a loose bit of hair back behind my ear. Lyll took me gently by the shoulders.

“Celyn?” Her eyes searched my face. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

I think I nodded. Vaguely I was aware of voices in the background, but I didn’t really hear what they said. Lyll touched the silver bracelet on my arm. “And
this
is why you ran from the Celystra.”

Uncertainly, I glanced around the room, but everyone there — Sarists all — was somber. They could guess that Werne the Bloodletter’s sister wouldn’t wear a silver bracelet just because it was pretty. I nodded — more firmly this time.

“All right,” Lyll said with another little squeeze. “Thank you, Celyn. Petr, my lord husband, go now. We shall hear the rest of Celyn’s tale another time.”

They weren’t gone long — just long enough for Lord Sposa and the Cardom to press against me, full of questions I couldn’t answer. Marlytt finally broke them up by handing warmed wine around to everyone. I gripped my hot cup hard until my hands stopped shaking. When Lord Antoch and Lord Wellyth returned, their faces were grim. Lyll rose half out of her seat.

“We couldn’t see her,” Antoch began, but seemed unable to go on.

Wellyth stepped forward, unfurling a document and slipping on a pair of spectacles. “We spoke to one of the Confessors, but we did not see the Inquisitor himself. Lady Merista has indeed been arrested. The charge is heresy.”

Lady Lyll’s hands on her wine were white. “Go on.”

Wellyth continued. “They are gathering evidence in advance of pressing formal charges against your lordships, for harboring a heretic —”

“Harboring? She’s our daughter!”

“And fomenting rebellion,” Wellyth finished heavily. “Apparently they are in possession of some evidence regarding illicit Sarist communications, and they’re looking for proof that Bryn Shaer has been building a standing army.” Lord Wellyth looked everyone over, his gaze falling a little too long on me. “Still, we are authorized to report that they are willing to forestall charges against anyone in the house, provided —” He hesitated.

“Provided what?” Lord Sposa demanded. “Out with it, man!”

Suddenly I knew
exactly
was Lord Wellyth was going to say. I looked up at him calmly as he read the rest of the order.

“Provided you deliver Lady Merista’s maid, one Celyn Contrare, by sunset today.”

I jumped up. “Fine. I’ll go now.” If I got back in there, maybe I could —

Lady Lyll grabbed my hand. “Celyn, sit down.” She turned to Wellyth. “No, of course not. It’s out of the question.”

“Why not?” I stared at her desperately, though part of me was crumbling with gratitude.

“Because we wouldn’t turn anyone over to them, least of all a friend who has served our family with honor and devotion.”

I made a strangled sound at that and looked at Wellyth. “Go back and ask if they would take me in Meri’s place.”

“You don’t give orders here,” he said, but added gently, “It wouldn’t do Lady Merista any good.”

“The Inquisitor wants
me
,” I insisted.

“But he’ll take you both.” Lyll leaned over and took my arm. “Celyn. We’ll find another way. Petr, please convey our regrets to His Grace’s men concerning their generous offer. Find out what their demands are regarding Lady Merista’s ransom, and when we can have her returned to us pending trial.”

Wellyth looked even grimmer. “I’m sorry, Your Ladyship. There’s to be no ransom.”

Lyll finally sighed and pressed her eyes closed, a hand covering her face. “Then there’s nothing we can do,” she said.

“No!” I cried. “How can you say that? Milady — they only have twelve Greenmen. I know the Confessors are armed, but I’m sure the Bryn Shaer guard is strong enough, and —”

They were staring at me, brows drawn, faces hard. I blinked back. “What?”

Lady Cardom spoke up. “Are you suggesting we mount some kind of — rescue mission, girl?”

“Why not?”

“With the king’s army camped outside?” Sposa said. “Impossible.”

“But it’s
Meri
—”

“Enough!” Lord Antoch’s voice boomed out. “Have done. Everyone — just go back to your rooms and wait for word. I’m sure we’ll learn their next move soon enough.”

I was about to make another protest when Lyll shook her head. “It’s over, Celyn. They’ve won. It’s time to cut our losses and retreat.”

“What does that mean?”

She glanced briefly at her husband. “We’ll begin negotiations to turn ourselves in for conspiracy. Maybe then they’ll be persuaded to spare Meri.”

“No, you
can’t
,” I said, my voice desperate. I felt dazed; how had it come to this?

Lady Lyll gave my fingers a faint, fluttering squeeze, but didn’t meet my eyes as she rose to leave, Lord Antoch close behind her. The others drifted away as well, until I was alone with the Cardom, Marlytt, and Eptin Cwalo.

Cwalo sat beside me. “I said you were fearless,” he said softly. “Good girl.”

“And I told you I hate to lose.”

Lady Cardom regarded me evenly across the court. “I always did find Lyllace Nemair and Petr Wellyth a little overcautious for my tastes,” she said.

I looked up sharply. “You don’t agree with them?”

“No,” she replied. “Any pretense of negotiation is delaying the inevitable, and the longer Lady Merista is in their custody, the worse it will go for her.”

A chill went through me. She was very direct — but it gave me some hope. “Will you help me do something?”

Lady Cardom almost smiled. “Antoch saved my husband’s life at Kalorjn,” she said. “What do you propose?”

An hour later, bent over the desk in Lady Cardom’s chambers, we had the framework of a plan. Eptin Cwalo and the Cardom were eminently practical, devising the all-important leg of the journey that came
after
the comparatively minor matter of freeing Meri from the immediate clutches of the Inquisition. We recruited Berdal, who was more than happy to sign on for any adventure on behalf of the Nemair, though he sobered when Cwalo explained his role in the mission.

“Your job will be to get Lady Merista as far from Bryn Shaer as quickly as possible. Pick up horses where you can, and use the network of informants and sympathizers to send word to the Nemair when you reach safety.”

I’d nicked a map of the castle and its grounds from the white tower workroom, and Berdal studied it now. “But where should I take her?”

“Don’t tell us!” I put in. “Just pick a direction and
go
. Deep into the mountains, if you have to. And trust Meri; she knows the land around Bryn Shaer.” But I quietly added, “If you’re looking for allies, a party of Sarists known to Lady Nemair left via the Breijardarl tunnels two nights ago. They may still be reachable.”

He pointed to the map. “I’ve been watching the soldiers’ movements since they arrived; there’s a period of about ten minutes when the patrols don’t overlap — here, near the mews — during every shift. We should be able to get out unseen then.”

The only hitch in this plan was that there was no time to consult Meri regarding her feelings about any of this. “She didn’t want to run,” I said, recalling her adamancy when I’d pressed her to go with Wierolf and Reynart. “She wanted to stay and defend Bryn Shaer.”

“I’m sure she’ll find it preferable to the Bloodletter’s gallows,” Lady Cardom said drily.

I took Marlytt to find Lyll and Antoch. Her role was to attach herself publicly to the Nemair, making sure they remained visibly blameless in their daughter’s escape.

Moving around Bryn Shaer was not as easy as it had once been. The dozen Greenmen seemed to be every where, and they were not particularly inclined to let a couple of waiting women pass freely. We had to stop and account for our movements more than once — as well as fend off the wandering hands of one lecherous guard on duty near the Armory, who thought I looked like easy prey. Marlytt talked him down before I broke his fingers.

The Nemair were in Lady Lyll’s quarters, a Greenman stationed at the open door. Lord Wellyth sat with them, shuffling through a sheaf of papers. Lord Antoch rose to meet us, and I saw with some shock that he’d been crying. Impulsively I opened my arms to him, and let him squeeze me until I felt a rib crack.

“Milord,” I whispered, holding tight to his arms. “Where is the opening to the passage behind your bed?”

His massive, blocky body stiffened, but he murmured into my hair. “The roof. It — it’s for stargazing.”

I let out all my breath and squeezed him back. “Thank you.”

“Celyn —” He caught me as I pulled away, and looked hard into my eyes. “Don’t do anything foolish.”

What was one more lie? “Of course not.”

The Cardom had agreed to divert the attentions of the people guarding Meri long enough for the rest of us to affect the rescue. Lady Cardom had smiled thinly and predicted that this should pose no problems.

And my job? Nick a priceless trea sure from Lord Antoch’s rooms without getting caught, of course.

It was a solid plan, once Berdal and I had worked out the logistics of the job. Roof access was inconvenient, but not impossible. There was one tense and ridiculous moment, when Berdal and I were slipping up the servants’ stair and heard footsteps descending toward us. I flung myself at him, pulling him into a passionate embrace — which probably had the opposite of the effect I’d intended, making us actually
more
noticeable, particularly since I had to stand two steps up from Berdal to even make the maneuver possible. When the guards finally spiraled down out of view, Berdal broke away from me, his face purple from the effort of not laughing.

“Sorry,” I sputtered. “I panicked.”

“Just glad I was here,” he said smoothly.

“Hopefully that was the last of the Greenmen,” I said, tallying them up in my head, and continued on up. The Lodge attics were little more than cramped, narrow passageways extending the length of each wing, but doors beneath the eaves opened onto tiny stone walkways running along the roofline. I’d been up there only once before, my first week spying for Daul, and I’d loved the exhilarating height and the blasting wind.

There were no locks on these little doors; there was no point. Particularly in the dead of winter, when ice coating the frame and the hinges and the latches had frozen every thing shut.

“Hells,” I said, giving the door a fruitless tug. This was as bad as the lock on Daul’s door. I hated to use such a pretty blade for such an inelegant purpose, but I pulled out my dagger and started to dig away at the crack between door and frame.

“Stop,” Berdal said. “Here.” He threw his shoulder hard into the door, then braced his foot against the wall and heaved. The door popped open with an ungodly sound, shards of shattered ice raining down on the attic floor. “Gods — do you think they heard that?”

I shook my head, slipping my knife back into its sheath; weird attic noises were beyond the scope of Greenmen’s duties. As we stepped out onto the ledge, a swirl of snow rose up in the icy wind, and I had to lift my hand before my face. “This is horrible,” I said, trying to keep my voice low, even in the screaming wind. “Are you going to manage?”

“Lead the way,” Berdal cried back, crouching as he moved along. “And remind me to ask how you got so adept at climbing about on castle rooftops when you can’t even ride a horse.”

“You’re a fair hand at this too.”

“I’m a mountain boy, remember?”

We followed the footway to a terraced landing behind the Round Court’s domed roof, which shielded us from the worst of the wind. A flight of narrow steps linked the landing to the battlements curving past the Lodge. The door to Lord Antoch’s passage was hidden behind a decorative corbel shaped like a bear and buried under a foot of snow. Inside we could see a narrow iron ladder fixed to the wall of the snug passageway.

“Are you sure about this?” Berdal said, staring into the darkness.

“It’s nothing,” I said, lowering myself over the edge. I gave him a grin I didn’t quite feel. “I’ll have her back in a minute. Try not to fall off the roof.”